Words. Words, words, words! Hamlet exclaims. He is annoyed with not only the superficiality of what people say, but the betrayal of those words as well.
His comment is ironic if one considers the play he says the words in, the “eponymous” play, as my students liked to say. New words do crowd out the old. Hamlet is the title character; the play is called “Hamlet;” he is, again as my students were fond of writing, its “titular” character.
Those words are not objected to.
There was an objection, years ago (many years in fact) to the use of the word “like” to mean “said” – and that meaning was either “said,” past tense, or “says,” present tense.
For example,
“So I’m coming home just twenty minutes late and my mother’s like, “’Where have you been?”
“And I’m like, ‘I told you! Before I left’”
And she’s like, ‘told me what? What did you tell me?’”
And we all used to be, like, astounded, annoyed. Now the word “like” has indeed crowded out the word “said.” Its use is in print all the time.
“Streaming” never used to be an active verb — or, I guess (English teacher than I am) (I was)—a participle. We used the verb “stream” to mean pour in a narrow amount, as in “stream the milk gradually into the batter.” Now it means “to access on TV or the computer.” Movies “stream,” not milk, not liquid at all.
This one is funny, but I suppose makes sense: “toolbox.” My dad had a workbench and a toolbox. He gave me a toolbox to take to college. (I need to find that essay. The problem is my present writing, those words, have crowded out the old! ) My toolbox—or any, for that matter—consisted of hammer, screwdriver, etc.
Now we have a “toolbox” of behaviors to help us beyond alcoholism, depression, other psychic ailments. “I went to the workshop,” someone will say, “ and it was good. Like, I have some tools I can use now.”
Anyway, who has a toolbox with physical tools? Just someone such as me, actually. A wrench, a hammer, screwdrivers of various tips and sizes. Tools.
Text. That was once the printed word in a book. A textbook was what we bought for college, what we taught from. A textbook was a book of “texts,” which, in turn, were articles or stories written by authors and printed on the pages.
Now it’s a verb: “He texted me.” “I’ll text her, see what’s up.” It’s also a noun: “She sent a text” as well as an adjective: “I have a text message.”
I am guessing that the word “polyamorous” has been around for a while. But not in use by me. I had a student who wrote about her disillusionment with her polyamorous relationships. That’s different from “polygamy,” of course, which implies a ceremony of marriage. Gam = marriage; Poly = many; amor =love. Well, it’s an idea, isn’t it? Many lovers, interchanging. They meet on “Match-dot-com” or “Dating-dot.com” and can “swipe” through suggested possibilities.
I could go on, if I were you I’m still working with the old set of words, the old meanings. The present reader has probably “ghosted” me by now anyway.